


Friendship Grows Like Trees

by borntomkehistory



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 12:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12410505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borntomkehistory/pseuds/borntomkehistory
Summary: “When I do leave, swear that you will still be here when I come back.”The other boy's lips opened and closed like a gaping fish out of the water until he settled on biting his lower lip. He was unsure if he could keep such a big promise to his friend. But he had to, he couldn't disappoint Yuri and risk him being mad at him.Finally, he opened his mouth, “I swear.” The words left his mouth with a strange emptiness.





	Friendship Grows Like Trees

**Author's Note:**

> The childhood friendship fic that no one asked for. 
> 
> Also, I just finished reading The Song of Achilles so all the swear it references are from there. It's also a great book. 11/10 would recommend. 
> 
> Enjoy!

...

 

 “Hey.” 

Yuri looked up with squinted eyes. He raised a hand to act as a sun visor while he tried to make out the dark silhouette that stood in front of the sun. 

He didn't know who he was addressing until a pair of dark brown eyes met his bright green ones, their faces only centimeters apart. Yuri should have asked the obvious  _ who are you? _ But he didn't. He only stared at the older boy, with the wind passing between them. Blowing Yuri’s own blonde hair in front of his face. 

“Let's be friends.” He spoke, holding his hand out to Yuri. 

Only being six years old, Yuri didn't know how to react to this gesture. It was odd. He knew that having a friend was a good thing, but he never had the need for a friend of his own. All he needed was grandpa and his cat, Potya. 

Yuri stared at the outstretched hand. The older boy seemed unfazed. He didn't look offended in any way, rather he just patiently awaited his answer. He was squatting with wobbly knees, with a face to little to no expression other than the one he presented with. 

With the stretching silence, Yuri could hear the rustling of the leaves in the tree above them. The tree that Yuri always visited, the same tree that had its leaves taken away by the shift of seasons. The once green leaves transitioning to colors like red, yellow, orange, and brown. 

A leaf slowly descended until it landed upon the other boys head. Yuri, watching in silence, felt laughter bubble up within his chest until he burst out into childlike chuckles. His sides beginning to ache as he continued to laugh. Which was something that didn't often occur unless his grandpa did something that made him laugh.

The other boy was baffled by his laughter, his cheeks flushing a bright red. He looked up and saw the long stem of a leaf sticking out past his short black bangs. Quickly, he stanched the leaf from his hair and held it in his hand for a moment. 

“Will you be my friend or not?” He asked in the same monotone voice he's been using. It seemed he didn't find what happened as amusing as Yuri did, but maybe it's because he was older and didn't find it funny. 

“Okay.” Said, Yuri, once his laughter subsided. He took the boy's hand into his own. It was warm, warm enough to unfreeze his frostbitten hand. Their hands fit together as well as a puzzle piece, and Yuri didn't know it yet. He only saw a boy who willingly approached him with an offer. 

He’s going to call him leaf-boy. 

Next, leaf-boy sat next to Yuri. They didn't exchange any other words except for the ones they said prior. It felt strange, but not uncomfortable. Yuri even broke apart a piece of his warm Pirozhki that his grandpa had made for him as a snack. 

Leaf-boy took the piece and they ate in silence with their shoulders brushing together in brief contact.

 

-

 

After that, Yuri and Leaf-Boy sat together underneath the tree. Neither waits for one another, rather they just knew that they were going to be there. 

They didn't speak much either. Yuri either brought his Pirozhki to share, or leaf-boy would bring a snack of his own.  _ Baursaki _ is what he called it. It was a name Yuri never heard before until he learned It was a fried bread recipe from Kazakhstan. 

Yuri held the Baursaki in his hands. He was never one to try new things, the only thing he ate was his grandpa's cooking with an exception of a few other things. But he didn't want to be rude, especially since he had leaf-boy eat his Pirozhki. So, he took a bite. The crumbs from the fried snack falling onto his red scarf.

It was good.  

He took another bite, and another, and another until it was all gone. Then, he licked the crumbs off his lips, turning to see if leaf-boy had finished his. He still had half in his hands, eating it much slower.

Yuri watched him eat with his lips slightly parted. Leaf-boy noticed. He broke a piece off and handed it to Yuri who accepted it gratefully. 

When it was time for them to leave, Yuri told his grandpa about  _ Baursaki _ . He also told him about how leaf-boy was from Kazakhstan, and that he always had Baursaki with his meals. His grandpa listened as they drove home. 

“What's the name of your new friend?” Asked grandpa. He glanced up at the rearview mirror to look at his grandson in the backseat. 

“I don't know.” Admitted Yuri. He's never thought to ask his name, rather he just called his leaf-boy. 

He will ask tomorrow. 

 

-

 

Tomorrow came. Yuri sat underneath the tree with a bag of Pirozhki in his hands. His grandpa always packed two now. One from him, one for leaf-boy. It was his turn to bring a snack and he was excited. 

Leaf-boy arrived. Yuri saw him get out of a dark green van. He saw him wave to a woman in a front seat, along with two girls in the back. That was the day that Yuri learned leaf-boy had sisters. The woman– who must have been his mom, handed him a lunch bag with developing grease marks on the bottom. Yuri recognized the bag, he must have brought his own snack too. 

Today leaf-boy had on the green scarf he wore around his neck when they first met. After his mother drove off he immediately went over to the oak tree where he saw his new friend waiting. 

“Hello.” He greeted. He must be talkative today because they never greet one another. He went on his knees and crawled over to the roots of the tree, where he sat on his bottom right next to Yuri.

Yuri sat his snack on his lap, looking up at leaf boy. Grandpa wanted to know his name so he had to ask. 

“What's your name?” 

“My name is Otabek.”

_ Otabek. _ Yuri repeated the name in his head until he was confident that he would remember.  _ Otabek _ . A name he never heard before. It was different. He liked different. 

“Otabek,” Yuri said. His name dripping off his tongue like honey. 

Otabek nodded, “what's yours?” Was his question. He held his bag of treats in his lap. 

“Yuri.” 

Otabek placed a finger on his chin, “That's easy to remember.” 

“So is yours. O-tabek.” Yuri purposely added an extra emphasis on the O. 

Yuri watched as Otabek eyebrows lifted, along with the curves at the ends of his mouth. 

“That's good. I brought Baursaki again.” He showed off his bag, the bottom as discolored and greasy as before. 

“My grandpa made me Pirozhki.” 

They both took out one of their snacks, exchanging them quickly before the chilled air affected its warm temperature. 

“Will you be here tomorrow?” Yuri took a mouse like nibble of his Baursaki. Still looking at Otabek with his bright green eyes. 

“Yes.” 

Yuri felt relieved, further leaning back against the tree. He looked straight ahead where the playground was, taking in the view of the other kids playing on the swings and seesaws. 

“Okay.” Was the final thing he said. 

 

A couple of hours passed. Time always moved slowly when they were together. And somehow without them as much as exchanging a word with one another it was like they knew each other their whole lives. Eventually, Grandpa came to pick Yuri up. 

“Grandpa, this is Otabek,” Yuri told him as he took hold of his large hand. He looked back at Otabek who still sat in his spot. Yuri couldn't wait to tell grandpa all about Otabek, and he was especially excited to learn his name. 

The old man tipped his hat up, taking a glance at the boy. He knew that whoever his grandson like must be okay. He trusted his judgment, and with that he kindly accepted Otabek. He offered his all too rare smiles. 

“My grandson tells me that you like my Pirozhki’s.” He addressed the boy who nodded. Strangely enough, he didn't seem nervous talking to the older man. 

“Yes, sir. They're good.” Otabek politely replied. He stood up, brushing the grass stains off his pants. 

Yuri followed the conversation, then he turned to his grandpa, looking up with a few pieces of his blond hair falling over his eyes. “Can we come back tomorrow?” He asked. 

The old man brushed the hair out of his grandson's face, his expression as warm as the coffee he drinks on a Sunday morning. He couldn't say no to his grandson, “of course, Yuri.” 

Then, the dark green van from earlier returned. Filled with the same bright face people Yuri remembered. That must be his mom and sisters. Before Yuri could say goodbye, Otabek had already made his way over to the vehicle. The women in the driver's seat greeted her son, her long black hair placed in a messy bun on the top of her head. Otabek shared the same facial features. The dark eyes, nose, mouth. He was halfway in the car until Yuri broke away from his Grandpa's hand. 

“Excuse me.” Yuri ran to the van, his hands reaching up to touch the bottom of the open window. 

The women seemed surprised, turning to her son in the passenger's seat. She exchanged a few words with him in their native tongue. 

“Can Otabek come back tomorrow?” 

She switched back to Russian, looking over at the young boy. She smelled sweet, like fresh nectar in the spring. Up close, Yuri could see the faint lines around her mouth and eyes, and how they would crinkle when she spoke. She was just as polite as Otabek, her voice sweeter than her presence. 

“Of course. You must be the friend he's always talking about.” 

Yuri nodded, feeling a tad self-conscious with all the eyes on him. He's completely forgotten about his sisters who were staring at him from h  back seat, chuckling among themselves. 

He felt a hand on his back. His grandpa's hand. Grandpa greeted his mother, and they walked exchanged a few words before he told Yuri that they had to leave. 

Yuri understood. He waved a goodbye to Otabek, who waved back. He also waved a goodbye to his mother and even the sisters he did not talk to. 

Yuri and Grandpa stepped back so that the van could drive away. Then, Yuri tugged at his grandpa's sleeve. 

“We have to come early tomorrow.” He said, with his too big wool hat falling over his eyes. 

He was excited to see Otabek again. 

 

-

 

They continued to see each other after that. Always meeting underneath the giant oak tree. They also talked more, Yuri finally experiencing a real friendship. He liked Otabek. He was easy to be around even if he didn't talk a lot. After he opened to him he never stopped talking. Describing his favorite Tv show, his favorite games, he even had an hour-long conversation about his cat. 

Otabek always listened. Every so often he would hold his own conversation, but he was happier listening to Yuri speak. 

And the closer they became, that's when Yuri decided he needed to invite Otabek over to his house. 

“You have to come over. Grandpa just built a new birdhouse and the bird's eggs can hatch any minute now.” 

It took a bit of convincing, and a conversation between Otabek's mother and Grandpa before they agreed. Otabek was allowed to come over, much to Yuri’s excitement. There were so many things Yuri wanted to show his friend. First was his cat, Potya. 

 

“Grandpa, he’s here!” Yuri called out from the window. He watched that dark green van roll into their driveway. 

“Why don't you let him in, Yurochka?” Grandpa entered the room, wiping his hands on an off-white napkin.

Yuri nodded, running out the house to greet his friend. Otabek was halfway out the van with a sleeping bag in his hand. It was a navy blue bag with small silver stars on the sides. 

His bag was so cool! Yuri leaned over to his left to get a better look at his bag before he was interrupted by Otabek's mother. 

“Now, Otabek. I want you to be well behaved.” She said in the language that Yuri didn't understand. He watched her mouth movements, how she carefully pronounced each vowel. 

“Okay, mama,” Otabek replied. Waving her off. She sent kisses to both her son and Yuri. Then waved to Grandpa who was standing out on the porch. 

“Can you teach me how to talk like that?” 

Otabek gave an inquisitive look. Not understanding what his younger counterpart was talking about. He tightens his grip on his bag strap, hoping his body up to adjust the luggage.

“Like what?” 

“Like you and your mom.” 

Ah. Otabek clicked his tongue, “okay.” He replied in Kazakh, his neutral face expressing a cunning smile. 

Yuri gave him a pout, his cheeks puffing up like a puffer fish. He heard his name and knew it was his grandpa. He had been busy preparing lunch for the two of them, and Yuri was starved. The young boy took hold of the sleeve of Otabek's jacket, dragging him along to his house without question. 

“Grandpa makes good food. I know you will like it.”

The older boy nodded, allowing himself to be dragged. 

  
  


They ate their lunch quick. Grandpa decided to make varieties of foods for his guest, something other than Pirozhki which was his grandson's beloved meal. He wanted to give Otabek a taste of Russian cuisine. Boy, did they like it. He would have never known two boys could finish all the food he made. At this rate, he was going to have to start dinner before their bodies digested the food. 

“Otabek, can I tell you a secret?” Yuri wiped his face with his sleeve. 

“Okay, Yuri.” He finished drinking his milk. His eyes on his friend. 

Yuri placed his elbow on the table as if he were going to arm wrestle him, but instead he pinky poked out of his small fist. He was expecting a pinky swear. 

“Swear it.” 

Otabek obliged, lifting his arm so that he could wrap his pinky around Yuri’s, “okay.”

“I'm going to train to be a figure skater when I'm older. Grandpa said I could.” 

The other boy listened. Even when he could feel his heart slowly sink into the pit of his stomach. 

“Are you leaving?” 

It was as if the grip of their pinkies got stronger which each word they spoke. They've been inseparable for the last few months that neither wanted to have the thought of the other leaving. And for the first time, Yuri's eyes didn't shine like dew on fresh green grass. They were eyes of determination, the eyes of a soldier. 

Otabek saw him shake his head, brows narrowing down, causing new wrinkles to appear on his forehead, “not yet.” 

“Okay.” 

“When I do leave, swear that you will still be here when I come back.” 

The other boy's lips opened and closed like a gaping fish out of the water until he settled on biting his lower lip. He was unsure if he could keep such a big promise to his friend. But he had to, he couldn't disappoint Yuri and risk him being mad at him. 

Finally, he opened his mouth, “I swear.” The words left his mouth with a strange emptiness. 

“And I swear I'm going to be the best figure skater the world has ever seen,” Yuri exclaimed. Mouth wide and revealing the two teeth he had lost. One on the top, the other on the bottom. Somehow his missing teeth preserved the innocence Yuri held. Even though they were both getting older, and Yuri was turning seven in a couple of weeks. 

Otabek decided to say something in Kazakh, something that his mom would tell him or his sisters. When he repeated the phrase he tried to say it how his mother would, _ “Ең жақсы көрдіңіз” _ he said. 

“What does that mean?” 

Next, a rare smile touched Otabek's lips, his dark eyes flashing with a mysterious inquisitiveness, “I'll tell you when you're older.” 

“No fair! You have to tell me. We're still holding pinkies.” Yuri wiggled his pinky in an  _ as a matter of fact _ manner 

Otabek cheekily took his hand back, resting it on his lap, “now we're not.” 

Yuri shouted loud protests.

“Are you going to show me your birdhouse.” 

Instantly, Yuri stopped. His short attention span getting the best of him. He completely forgot about the birdhouse that he wanted to show Otabek and was glad that he brought it up. Maybe if they're lucky the eggs will hatch today and they could name the birds. 

“Oh yeah!” Yuri jumped down from his chair, unlike Otabek who stepped down due to his extra height. 

“Maybe the eggs hatched.” 

Otabek hummed, “maybe.” 

  
  


The birds were lively when they got to the house. But still, no signs of the eggs hatching. Yuri looked disappointed, watching as the mama bird cleaned her wings off. She was a beautiful color. Grandpa said that she was a blue jay. She had a color of dark blue feathers on her top and her bottom was a mixture of white and black. 

“She's so pretty,” Otabek said in awe, careful not to disturb the bird as she bathed herself. 

“I bet the baby birds are prettier.” Mumbled Yuri. 

The house that he and Grandpa made was a traditional house. Made of wood, and the paint colors Yuri chose. The roof was yellow, and the walls of the house were a brick red. What was cool about the house was the back which had a thick glass pane so they could see inside the house. 

That's how Otabek and Yuri watched. 

They left the birds alone. Retreating to a tree on the corner of his house. It wasn't a big as the oak tree in the park, though it served the same purpose. They sat down near the roots, the leaves shading them from the sun. 

“Hey, Otabek?” 

“Yeah, Yuri?” 

Their shoulders were touching now. Not like before when the fabric of their jackets slightly connected. Yuri yawned. 

“Can I call you Beka?” 

Otabek’s body tensed as if someone dropped a bucket of ice water down his spine.  _ Beka? _ He's never had a nickname given to him by someone other than his family. It felt… good. His heart was thumping against his chest like it was trying to escape. Over where Yuri was, he saw his young friend fading in and out of sleep. They've had a long day, with the setting sun to vouch for them. The sky turning into an ombre of yellow, orange, and pink.

“Beka is nice… Yura.” 

Yuri snorted, his body leaning closer into Otabek's. With the chilly air, his nose began to flush with a touch of red at the tip. Along with his cheeks  which were already a rosy red. 

“I like Yura.” 

“I'm glad.” Otabek too leaned into Yuri. With his head resting on the top of a mop of blond hair. 

“Beka?”

“Hmm?” 

Yuri raised his pinky for another swear, without hesitation Otabek took the pinky into his own. Anxiously anticipating what the swear will be.

This time Yuri sat up, green eyes meeting dark brown. Just like grass and soil, together they could make a field of flowers. 

“I think I like you.” 

“I like you too, Yura.” 

Yuri shook his head, face twisting in frustration while he tried to look for the right words to say. He tried thinking back to how adults would say it on his Grandpa's television shows. The man would admit his feelings to the women and they would be happy. Except, they were both boys and Yuri felt confused. He like liked Otabek in a way he hadn't known he would like another boy. Also, Otabek was his friend. He didn't know he would like his friend in that way.

“I like _ like  _ you.” 

_ Oh _ . Otabek’s cheeks went bright red. He thinks he like likes Yuri too. 

“Me too.”

Yuri was glad to hear that, though he didn't know what to do next. It always looked so easy on television. So instead, in a series of swift motions, he tackled Otabek onto the cold ground, pinning his arms down. Otabek didn't attempt on making a fight, even if he was unaware about what the younger boy was planning. 

There was a feeling of superiority with Yuri sitting on top of Otabek. Faces centimeters apart, Yuri’s own face broke out into a wide ear to ear smile. Otabek, looking bewildered and uncomfortable being pinned down on the ground. Something was sticking into his back and he was pretty sure it was a rock. 

Yuri linked his pinky with Otabek’s again. They didn't make their swear yet. 

“Skate with me.”

“Yura, I can't skate.” 

“Swear it.” Otabek sighed. He swore. Even if he was going to have to work harder to be in the same league as Yuri. If that's what he wanted then that's what he was going to do. 

“ _ We _ can be the best skaters in the world.” 

“But didn't  _ you _ want to be the best skater?” 

Shaking his head, a leaf that must have fallen when they were roughhousing, lowered onto Otabek's head. Just like when they first met. But this time there was no laughter, “I want you to be on the top of the world with me.”

“Swear it.” He added. 

Those soldier eyes were back. The ones that left Otabek breathless. He wondered if Yuri could see into his eyes as well, and what he saw. It wouldn't be a boy fit for skating, just one who would happily cheer along the sidelines. 

“I swear it.” 

“Boys!” A voice cut through their world like a butter knife. Carefully placing them back into reality. In the reality where it was filled with various sounds and smells. Not just of their own. And in their reality, they were only two close friends lying underneath the tree with the sun fully set and the sky now a cold navy blue with warm white stars. 

Grandpa found them. He was relieved they weren't far but annoyed they didn't tell him where they were going. He couldn't stay mad. Boys will be boys after all. 

“Yuri, Otabek. I think there's something you two want to see.” He helped his grandson and his friend up. Taking their hands to lead them to the backyard. 

As they inched closer they heard faint sounds of chirping that weren't there earlier. Yuri gasped, pulling away from Grandpa to investigate the birdhouse. 

“Beka! The eggs hatched!” Otabek joined his friend. It was dark so they couldn't see the birds as well, but they could certainly hear them. Yuri would be upset about not seeing the eggs hatched, but he was just too excited. 

“Wow.” Was Otabek's reaction. 

“What are you going to name them, Yurochka?” Grandpa placed his hands on their shoulders. 

“I know! I wanna name one Beka and the other one Yura.” Said the six-year-old, giving Otabek a gapped tooth grin. 

“Beka and Yura?” 

“Yes! Me and Beka gave each other nicknames. Do you like them?” 

Grandpa did like them. He liked seeing his grandson having a close friend like Otabek, and was grateful that they crossed paths and became friends. Grandpa could see the subtle changes in his grandson, and how he was opening up more and more. 

“I do. Now, why don't you two get washed up? Dinner is ready.” 

But Otabek and Yuri didn't want to leave. They wanted to look at the birds for a little bit longer. Grandpa got the cue, before leaving he added they shouldn't be about too long or their food would get cold. He let the boys be. Leaving the door opened for them to come in when they were ready.

The birds seemed to have chirped louder when it was only the two of them. Yuri light tapped the glass pane. 

“Why did you name them after us?” Otabek questioned after having some time to think about what he had to ask. 

“Because,” Yuri couldn't bring himself to tear away from the birds so he talked to Otabek while looking ahead, “these birds will be together forever just like how we are.”

Otabek wanted to tell him that birds usually separate once they learn to fly. That just made him reflect on their friendship, and whether they would always be together or if they're destined to be like these birds and leave their cozy nest they built together. Otabek would look at Yuri and think of the swears they've made. Yuri wanted them to be on the top of the world  _ together. _ Otabek did too.

Without thinking, he felt his hand slide into Yuri’s pale one. It didn't feel like the first time when they shook hands to declare their friendship months ago because they weren't strangers. They were now two friends who like  _ like _ each other, who also swears to stand on top of the world. Their relationship was forged on the foundation of trust and promises. 

Yuri was surprised to feel his hand, but certainly not disappointed. He gave his hand a squeeze. Then again it would have been a touching moment if his stomach didn't growl aloud. They've hadn't eaten anything in a few hours. 

Feeling embarrassed, his ears perked up like a cat when another growl came not from him but from Otabek's stomach. 

They didn't say anything. 

Then they did. With their laughter. 

“Yura, let's eat. I'm hungry.” 

“Okay… I'll race you!” Yuri pushed Otabek to the side to get his head start. 

“Hey! No fair!” 

 

-

 

That wasn't the last time Otabek slept over. Yuri practically begged him to sleep over every weekend. Grandpa agreed, as did Otabek's mother. 

Each time Otabek would come over they would check on the baby birds, watching them grow up into full-grown birds. Just like how they watched themselves grow up before their eyes. 

It wasn't long until Yuri’s seventh birthday came. Otabek and his family came over with his Grandpa's invitation. That's when Yuri had the chance to meet his sisters, who were almost the complete opposite of Otabek in every way. Compared to Otabek, they were loud and outgoing. Maybe it was because they were older than him, but Yuri felt overwhelmed. 

“Happy Birthday!” The girls shouted in unison. Each of them handing him a present that they brought. 

Yuri didn't have to introduce himself because they knew everything they needed to know from their younger brother; which was a good thing. Yuri was practically family to them. A younger brother they never knew they wanted but. 

Next, was Otabek's parents. He's never seen his dad before, only brief passes of his mom. Boy, was his dad tall, Yuri’s next was aching from looking up at the two adults. Thankfully, they knelt down to make it easier, handing over a present from the two of them. The box was heavy with a gold and blue wrapping. Yuri couldn't believe how shiny the wrapping was, he almost didn't want to open it. 

“Otabek told us you were going to be a figure skater.” His mother spoke to him. His breath emitting a smell of lavender and honey. She pulled him into a hug, “just know that you always have a family cheering you on.” 

Last, was Otabek. He was quieter than usual, standing behind his family members. But Yuri wasn't going to let him get away that easily. Once the adults were talking, and his sisters preoccupied with poor potya who looked terrified, Yuri cornered his friend. 

“Beka, why haven't you said happy birthday to me?” He meant to sound hurt but it came out more than a whine, with his pouting lip not helping his case. 

“Happy birthday, Yura.” Otabek rubbed his neck, looking down at his shoes. Toes wiggling inside his dirty white sneakers. 

Was he mad at him? Yuri didn't know what to do. Otabek never shut him out like this before. 

“Where's my gift?” 

Otabek shifted on his feet, a part of what looked like a box poking out from behind his back. He refused to meet his eyes as he hid whatever he was hiding. 

“Is… This it?!”  Yuri quickly snatched the box, earning protest from the older boy. The box was small, and not overly wrapped like the other gifts he's received today. Instead, it was wrapped in a plain brown paper with an old string keeping it together. It felt like Beka. Simple and straight to the point. 

Still, that didn't explain why he was trying to hide it.

“Yura, don't open it.” 

Too late. All the paper was nearly ripped. Yuri now untying the string. He wondered what it was. Maybe it was some game, or candy, maybe something much cooler. Oh, he couldn't wait. Otabek didn't try to stop him anymore either, instead, he stood there with his head turned away.

Yuri's excited face fell into one of confusion. He saw two identical bracelets sitting on a piece of soft cotton. The bracelets were homemade. They were beaded. The beads were navy, black, with a few sparkly and translucent ones. They eerily resembled the color scheme Otabek's bag he liked so much. 

Otabek felt dumb about his gift. His sisters suggested that he made something from the heart, but he wasn't creative. It spent a whole week trying to figure out what to made and all he came up with were beaded bracelets. That could never compete with all the cool gifts he's received. 

“Why is there two?” 

“I was hoping that we could wear them when we skate… together.” Otabek explained while Yuri carefully slid the bracelet on his thin wrist. 

Yuri handed the other one over. 

“Thank you.” 

“Do you like it?” 

What a dumb question. “Of course I like it. Why didn't you want to show me.”

Otabek shrugged, sliding his own bracelet on his wrist, “it’s just not as cool as your other gifts-” 

Whack. Otabek rubbed the side of his arm, stunned by what just happened.

“Ow…” he moaned. 

Yuri, looked satisfied as he rubbed his knuckles, “you're an idiot. Your bracelet is more than cool.” 

“If you say so. Can we get cake now?” 

“Oh yeah! Grandpa made a chocolate strawberry cake!” 

Yuri hadn't realized he took Otabek's hand as they walked. Otabek didn't protest. He just did what he did best, he listened.

“Tell me more.” 

 

-

 

Then, the dreaded day had arrived. Yuri, now 11, standing tall next to his bags with his chin-length blond hair and cold green eyes. He held onto the strap of his leopard print shoulder bag, knuckles turning white with the hidden tension he tried not to show. 

Behind him, his grandpa followed with more bags he was holding for his grandson, next to him was Otabek's parents and sisters who wanted to wish him well. 

And next to Yuri, Otabek stood with his final large box in his arms. Grandpa and Otabek's family offered to check his bags in while they said their goodbyes. They left. Leaving Yuri and Otabek alone. 

A 13-year-old Otabek, who had grown in height and was still a few inches taller than Yuri’s petite frame looked down on his friend who hasn't spoken a word through the entire car ride. 

“So…” Otabek began, rubbing his neck. He didn't know what to say, he's never been good at this part of their friendship. 

“I've always hated airports.” Was the first words Yuri had spoken after his hours of silence. 

“Me too. They smell too clean.” Otabek scrunched up his nose. 

“Right? No place is this clean. It's unnatural.” 

Causal chuckles escaped their lips. Covering up for the real emotions they were too afraid to express.  _ This was their way of saying this can't be the end. Not yet. _ Because they've been inseparable for years. They've done everything together. They played together, went to bed together, watched movies, even brushed their teeth. They were always together to the point where they were addressed as a unit. There was no Otabek with Yuri and vice versa

Otabek thought back to the day when they pinky swore. They were only young kids, not on the brink of adolescence. It was weird to watch Yuri grow up, just how it might have been weird for Yuri to do the same with him. They had become the baby birds who had learned to fly and now had to leave the nest to figure out the world for themselves. Separating from the lives they've become accustomed to with their loved ones. 

“Grandpa tells me that St. Petersburg is different from Moscow.” 

“Are you nervous?” 

He wanted to say yes, but he didn't want to worry him. Truthfully, he was more nervous about being without Otabek than he was about going to the training camp. Without a doubt, He knew that he was a good skater. People would call him cocky but Yuri would say confidence.

“No.”

Otabek's shoulders slouched over, slightly, “oh.” He deadpanned. 

Time ticked loudly in their ears. With each passing second, Yuri only got closer to boarding the plane. 

“Do you remember our swear?” Yuri poked his side, holding out his pinky so they could link them together. 

“Of course I do, Yura.” 

“When I come back I want to tell you something.”

Otabek raised a brow, “why can you tell me now?” 

“Because… I'll tell you when you're older.” Yuri cheekily used Otabek's own words against him. 

Then, they hugged. Their bodies creating a spark like flint and steel. They've always touched each other, but this time was different from the rest. The spark they felt traveled through their veins, sending a comforting warmth that neither had ever felt before. 

Otabek didn't want to let go. The reality of his Yuri leaving him was devastating. Yuri felt the same, his chin resting on his shoulder, their grip tightening.

“Yuri.” His grandpa came up to them. He hates to break the moment between them but Yuri had to get to his gate. 

“Walk me to my gate?” Yuri asked in a hushed whisper only Otabek could hear.

Otabek nodded, telling his family that he was going to go to the gate with them. Or at least, as far as he could go before security wouldn't allow it. 

They held hands walking there. They always had this thing that they knew what the other was feeling even without words. This was one of those times. Both knowing that if they spoke, the emotional roadblock would burst. 

When Otabek reached the end when he had to say goodbye, the words wouldn't come out. He just held on until security gave him a nasty look, one that read  _ you’re holding up the line _ . 

“Beka, you have to let go,” Yuri stated. Composure cool and collected. 

“I know. I'm going to miss you, Yura.” 

“I am too.” 

Security groaned, along with the other people who were waiting. They couldn't care less about two boys bidding their farewells, one had a job to do and the other people waiting had placed to be. Yuri knew this, Otabek knew this, and grandpa did too. He watched, having already said his goodbyes to his grandson prior. 

Otabek released his hand, and like a dandelion getting carried away by the wind, he was gone. Yuri turning to walk with the crowd of people he quickly blended in with. 

Otabek balled his fist by his pants, grandpa putting a hand on his shoulder like he would do when they were younger. 

For the first time, a warm tear rolled down his cheeks. 

  
  


...

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


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